[A/N] Sorry this is so late, guys. In my defence, my beta has been holding onto this one for a couple of weeks. She also has the next chapter. She said she'd have them both for me by yesterday... So that didn't quite work out. But enough with the pointing fingers, let's get on to the next chapter!

Chapter 21
There's No Place Like Home

I don't really have a plan of action. Scout first, I think. Then I'll decide.

The food stash is well hidden in a copse of trees. I swiftly scale one of these trees. My plan here is to study the area, figure out if there are any traps.

The boy from Three is there. I can see a tracker jacker sting on the back of his hand. He's had the good sense to pull the stinger out, unlike the other Careers, but he's still on the floor, crying and shivering and muttering to himself.

Feeling a spark of hope, I move forward, slowly. That's when I hear, "You get the hell away from her!"

I stop in my tracks.

"Get down and fight me like a man!"

I swallow hard. I know who it is. Cato. I don't know how he's on his feet, but he's right underneath me. I don't dare look down.

"Don't you dare do it!" he screams, his voice breaking on the word 'dare'. "Don't touch her!"

He grabs hold of the tree I'm in and shakes it hard. "I said GET DOWN!" He sucks in a shaky breath. He's crying hard. "I'll kill you!"

I risk a glance down. My heart stops.

He's staring right at me. We lock eyes and there's so much raw, crazed emotion in his eyes that I can't look away.

He must be so strong to fight the tracker jacker venom enough to stay on his feet for this long. But he's still hallucinating. He falls to his knees, clutching his head. "You sick murderer!" he shouts. "Die! I'll kill you!" He's almost foaming at the mouth. His face is red and blotchy and tears are creating tracks down his filthy face. "Mom!" he shrieks, clawing at the air. "Mom! No!"

He collapses onto his face, gut-wrenching sobs escaping his lips. "No. No!"

I watch in horror as Cato suddenly starts raking his hands on the tree trunk, lying on his side, his fingers beginning to bleed as he scratches at the tree like his life depends on it. He starts panting out random words, some of them not even real words at all, and then starts clawing at his face with broken, dirty nails.

I decide it's time to leave. I can't bear to watch this anymore.

I give one last longing glance at the Career's food stash. No, I can't stay. Cato, as insane as he may be, still knows I'm here and he may still be capable of killing.

I lithely drop down near Cato. I study him for a moment longer, my head cocked sympathetically. He's getting weaker. I could kill him now. I could just get my slingshot and kill him.

My hand moves to my pocket, where I keep my weapon. I grip it in one hand and find a stone on the ground. I slowly take aim, and when I have his head locked behind the stone, I squeeze my eyes shut. "I'm sorry they did this to you," I whisper. Then I let go.

Out of the blue I'm pushed onto the ground. My eyes fly open to find Cato on top of me. He has no weapon in his hands. His grip on me is feeble. Only his immense weight is holding me down.

He lowers his head right next to my ear as I struggle. "You missed. You can't shoot ME," he says softly, his breath hot on my ear.

His hands close around my neck. I try to rip his hands away, unable to get air in or out. He presses down. Tears spring to my eyes. Black spots dance before them. I push Cato's face, claw at his eyes, punch him, kick my legs, but I can't get out.

Then, as suddenly as he was on me, his weight disappears. I roll to my side, coughing and heaving in lungful after lungful of air through my raw throat. I look up at Cato, who's on his feet again. "Not me!" he shrieks, instantly collapsing and curling into a ball. Then he leaps up again and with a roar, barrels towards a tree like he's about to tackle it. He smashes into it with a sickening thunk and drops to the ground, unconscious.

I shakily get to my feet and rub my neck. It hurts so badly. I can't swallow properly.

I don't care about killing Cato anymore. I just run right past him. I don't want to have to see him ever again.

I run to the lake, gasping as the air rakes at my bruised throat. I trip over something and tumble down the rocks and into the water, face down.

I prop myself up, sucking in painful breaths. Panting, I shift into sitting position in the shallow lake, wincing at the brand-new scrapes and cuts that I earned from my clumsiness. I realize that what I tripped over was in fact an unconscious Career, the one that before was thrashing around.

Trembling, I get to my feet. Now I'm battered AND soaking wet. It's quite refreshing, but not exactly ideal. I clamber out of the lake, feeling like a drowned rat.

Katniss must be nearby. The tree she was in before is, anyway. Maybe she stayed.

I hurry over to it. There's no trace of her, only a virtually empty wasp's nest on the ground, and some leftover Career packs. I rummage through them. There's next to no supplies in them; just a bar of some sort, a half-eaten packet of dried fruit and a single strip of beef jerky left. I eat the beef jerky and store the rest of the food in my pack.

In one pack I find a root. I've never seen it before, but it looks like something someone has dug up, so I put it in my pack too. Maybe sooner or later I'll have the opportunity to build a fire and roast it. Or I could eat it raw. The latter being more likely.

I scan the area forlornly. Who knows where Katniss could've got to in her hallucinogenic state? Maybe one of the cannons was hers and she's on her way home. I can't believe that, though. It just seems so far-fetched. The infamous Katniss Everdeen, taken down by a couple of wasps? Yeah, right. I bet she's hunkering down somewhere clever, waiting to pounce on whichever unlucky tribute walks past.

At least, that's what I like to think. Truth be known, if she got stung by more than one, she's probably out like a light right now. I wonder how long it'll be until she wakes up.

The rest of the hot day goes by painfully slowly. I briefly search for Katniss, with no success — if she's passed out, finding her could very well be near impossible — and scavenge for food. I fill up my small water skin and dig around for more of those strange roots I found in a Career's pack, again with no avail — but I don't want to wander too far away in case Katniss comes back.

I don't go near the Career food stash again. I know Cato is there, but I don't know whether he's still unconscious or not. And maybe others are there. Maybe the area is covered with traps. Normally I'd be up for an adventure, but all by myself, in an unfamiliar place filled with killers, I'm too afraid, and I'm desperate for my family and a bed. That, and I'm terrible at making plans to destroy stuff.

I'm terrified the Gamekeepers are going to do something to the tributes in the time the Careers and Katniss are out.

I climb a tree and scale the highest branch, and look around me. Nothing. For miles. Just trees and the lake. How big is this place?

I clamber down a few feet, and settle on a branch comfortably. What is there to do but wait the day out? I have all I need.

I could kill the unconscious Careers.

I sit up straighter. That's what I could do. Get proactive. I jump down and hurry to the lake, loading my slingshot. I pull it taut as I break through the trees.

But they aren't there.

Oh dear.

How did they move? Did someone carry them? Did they wake up?

A jitter of fear runs through me and I leap up the nearest tree as thoughts of Careers lying wait, ready to pounce on me, shoot through my brain.

A sudden and dizzying spell of exhaustion washes over me and my eyelids droop, my legs feel weak. I have to sit down. I lean against the trunk for support. My eyes close but my mind is too active for me to fall asleep.

There's no place like home, I think. There's no place like home.